Harry Potter and the Book that Never Was
by Overskill
Summary: Unexpected visitors from other universes throw Hogwarts into confusion. Will Harry save the day once again? Will the visitors save Harry from a fate worse than death? And who's this other villain with red eyes? Crossover parody with XMen and LOTR.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Book that Never Was**

"It's like looking in a mirror, isn't it?" said Dumbledore genially.

"Oh yes," the other white haired, white bearded wizard replied with a twinkle in his eye. "Most curious. What are those things that hover on your nose?" he asked.

"Glasses," Dumbledore said. "They help me see better."

"Really? In my world wizards have perfect sight."

"Oh, I have perfect sight, but it never hurts to seem a little bit weaker than you are, now, does it?" Dumbledore winked at his esteemed colleague and proffered a bag. "Lemon sherbet?" he asked.

"Don't mind if I do," said Gandalf the Grey and popped the sweet in his mouth. He sucked, experimentally and smiled. "Hmm," he said, "tangy."

"I'm enjoying your visit immensely, my dear wizard, but I can't help feeling a certain curiosity on the means you employed in coming here. No-one can Apparate inside Hogwarts and yet here you are. And your friends as well."

"Actually," Gandalf said, a little indistinctly around the sweet, "I haven't the faintest idea. My friends and I were on a quest and had just met those other rather oddly clothed people when we were attacked and some confusion ensued. Suddenly we were here, at your school. I can feel that your magic is very powerful, so I have no doubts that together we'll find a way to send us all back home."

"Yes, yes, and in the meantime you are all my guests. But shush, the Hat is about to sing."

Gandalf leaned slightly forward the better to observe this phenomenon.

The Hat cleared its felt a few time and started.

_I've sorted all the children born_

_With magic to display_

_And thought my duty done this year_

_But I am forced to stay._

_I'm honour-bound to warn you all_

_When I detect a danger_

_Or when I feel some oddity,_

_But this is a lot stranger._

_From places you will never see,_

_Beyond your dreams, some blokes_

_With magic of their own they come_

_And they won't just tell jokes._

_Depending how you treat them all_

_They'll be our friends or foes_

_So make them welcome, everyone,_

_Give them kind words, not blows._

_Now some of them will study here_

_And maybe some will teach_

_Their ways will be quite odd for you_

_And so will be their speech._

_And one there is, a villain pure,_

_Who's joined with You-Know-Who_

_And he will be the one who will_

_Bring danger to me and you._

_Some come on and be sorted_

_You new friends and we'll see_

_Where you will end in Hogwarts and_

_Be happy as can be._

Gandalf turned to Dumbledore. "A bit lame, isn't it? I see we'll have to teach you real songs, my friend."

"Shh! It's a very old Hat, thousand year and more, you know? It's going a bit senile."

_All heroes go to Gryffindor_

_The House that's always Right_

_All geniuses to Ravenclaw_

_The House that's ever Bright_

_All wusses go to Hufflepuff_

_The House that's ever True_

_Ambitious prats to Slytherin_

_The House we always screw!_

"More than a bit senile, I fear," sighed Dumbledore. "Still, there's not much I can do about it."

Minerva McGonagall shut her mouth with a snap and glared at the Hat who had the decency to droop at the point. She glanced at the parchment that had magically appeared in her hand and called out: "Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

"Oh, look!" said Gandalf. "He's a great friend of mine and a great warrior and… sixteen?" he added weakly.

"Apparently Hogwarts has decided that, as they're going to be students, they have to be right age. Can't have adults in children's dorms, now, can we?" twinkled Dumbledore.

"GRYFFINDOR!" bellowed the Hat and sat smugly on a deafened Ranger's head.

"Frodo Baggins"

"Funny little fellow," Dumbledore commented. "Are you quite sure he's human… a wizard?"

"He's a Hobbit, actually," Gandalf said. "Delightful race of halflings. They cultivate this weed to smoke. Would you care to try it?"

"Don't mind if I do, actually. What exactly do you do?"

"Well, you light it and suck the smoke up in your mouth and puff it out. It's quite easy. Here, let me light this for you." Gandalf snapped his fingers and the aromatic smoke started curling happily around Dimbledore's nose.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Loyal buggers, are they?"

"That's not what the Hat said," remarked Gandalf tartly. "But yes, They are loyal, easygoing and always ready to eat and sing. They can be quite fierce in battle, though."

"Oh, the Hat never goes for secondary characteristics. It's always been brave Gryffindor, brainy Ravenclaw, loyal Hufflepuff and slimy Slytherin. No finesse."

"Sam Gamgee."

"Oh, another one! How enchanting. Bet he goes to Hufflepuff too?"

"He'd better," said Gandalf with a smile. "He can't bear to be separated from Frodo. He'd even threaten the Hat."

"Oh," said Dumbledore entranced by this apparent little-men-with-furry-feet perversion. "Are they _that_ way?"

The Hat yelling Hufflepuff saved Gandalf from a moment of acute embarrassment.

The Hufflepuff table cheered Sam in. He elbowed Hannah, who was making cow eyes at Frodo, aside and sat as near his master as it was possible to do without actually touching him.

"We're in a pickle, master Frodo, and no maybe about it," he scoffed.

"Jean Grey."

Jean went to sit on the stool accompanied by a susurrus, like starlings unfurling their wings. It sounded suspiciously like "Whooo!" if one can whisper whoo.

_Hello lovely lass_, the Hat spoke with a small quiet voice in the Phoenix' mind.

_Hi_, she projected gaily back at it. _So you're telepathic too? How nice_.

_Beauty and brains_, said the Hat. _There's really only one House for you, my dear_.

_That would be nice if I wasn't currently reading your thoughts, you perv! Sort me at once and DO NOT yell like that in my ears_. Jean hadn't had to deal with Warren Worthington for years for nothing.

"Ravenclaw," said the Hat meekly, surprising everyone but Scott. He knew that set of his wife… no wait… fiancée… what? Panic settled snugly in Cyke's mind. He scowled horribly thinking back on the times when his love had seemed so hopeless. That stupid hat had better put him in the same house. He couldn't really go through all that again.

"Remy Lebeau," McGonagall had barely looked at the odd assortment of teens, but she glanced up and saw trouble sitting down on the stool. Trouble with a capital T. This one was worse than the Twins, worse that Sirius Black. She scowled.

"Why is everyone scowling?" Gandalf asked, much amused. Surely the sight of two handsome children shouldn't be a cause for anger."

"Hormones," said sagely Dumbledore. "You've brought two… no, three heartbreakers in a school full of adolescents. I can practically see the hormones sloshing out of their ears."

_What did you do to Jeanie to make her so mad, mec?_ Gambit was asking the Hat. _I know that set of her shoulders._

_Nothing, nothing,_ said the Hat quickly. _You're a strange one, Mister Lebeau_, it added, eager to change argument. _You're brave, but devious; intelligent, but secretive_.

_I'm a Master Thief_, Gambit answered proudly. _Can't be one without having lots of talents_.

_I see_, mused the Hat, _in that case I think I'll place you in_…

"SLYTHERIN!"

"HURRAH!" screamed Pansy amid general laughter.

"Legolas…?"

"Just Legolas, lady." The elf's musical voice stopped the laughter. Tens of mandibles crashed on sterna. Even Hermione was seen to drool gently.

"She always goes for the dumb blonds," muttered Ron.

_You're not human, are you?_ the hat asked suspiciously.

_No, Magic Hat_, Legolas thought smilingly, _I am a Sindarin elf of the house of Thranduil_.

_Elf?_ If Hats could yelp, this one would have. _I can see the pointy ears but they are ridiculously underdeveloped, you're far too tall, your eyes are too small and let's not even mention the hair_.

_I am not of this world, Magic Hat_, legolas reminded it gently. _I am a very bold warrior_, he added hopefully.

_I don't care_, the Hat said peevishly. _You say you're an elf and you look like Gilderoy Lockhart only thought he looked. You're ending in Slytherin and no ifs and buts about it_.

_But I am Good, I fight for the Light against the Darkness, I even managed to befriend a Dwarf! I can't go into the Evil House_.

_Nobody said it was evil, I said we screw them, take it as you will. Besides, it's a hair thing_.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat announced loudly in a tone that brooked no opposition.

With slumped shoulders, the elf went to sit at the appointed table. He was so dejected that his superior senses failed him and he didn't hear Millicent Bulstrode excited whisper.

"Merlin! We're the House of the Sex Gods!"

"Fear the competition?" Blaise murmured maliciously to Draco Malfoy.

"Moi?" the Ice Prince of Slytherin said, amused. "Just for that I get dibs on both. You can have my leftovers." He thought for a second and smirked.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

HARRY POTTER AND THE BOOK THAT NEVER WAS

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter & Co., the X-Men and the LOTR characters are the property – respectively – of JK Rowling, Marvel Comics and the Tolkien Estate. I don't own them, I am, however, using them freely in this my triple crossover parody because parodists can. Moreover, I make absolutely no money out of this, my endeavour and mean no kind of harm to the legitimate owners.

**Notes: **Sorry for forgetting the disclaimer at the beginning of chapter 1. Must be going gaga. I'll edit the first chapter adding the disclaimer later. The X-Men accents are lifted bodily from the fics by Mick'n'Star with Star full permission. The song Frod sings is, of course, the one he sang in Bree. This is a one-stanza quotation and not a parody. Thank you for reading.

**WARNING: Here there be SLASH. Oh, and also het.**

**Chapter 2**

After Scott "Fearless Leader" Summers had been duly sorted into Gryffindor, Dumbledore rose majestically and boomed – courtesy of a well placed _Sonorus_ charm – at the expectant students.

"My children," he said, "welcome to Hogwarts. I hope you've all listened closely to the Hat's song and mean to model your conduct after its wonderful advice. I only wish to add that the Forbidden Forest is a dangerous place, fit only for the terminally insane and the suicidally adventurous. Please think twice, or thrice, or fice, before going exploring there. We have, luckily, acquired a new DADA professor in the person of my esteemed colleague Gandalf the Grey. Please welcome him and our odd new students with a warm applause." He thought for a moment, then added: "Or a cold, contemptuous one in the case of the Slytherins."

The student body duly clapped hands.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" the Headmaster twinkled. "Let the Starting Feast start!"

The student body enthusiastically demolished the food.

Later on, the Hufflepuff common room was enlivened by song and laughter. Frodo, glad to be in a warm, safe place, had started his famous comic song and dance routine, ignoring Sam's groan, and was now hopping merrily on a table to the Hufflepuffs' delight.

There was an inn, a merry old inn

_beneath an ld grey hill,_

_And there they brew a beer so brown_

_That the Man in the Moon himself came down_

_One night to drink his fill_.

"Hey," Justin Finch-Fletchley said. "That's the Three Broomsticks!"

"It's not _beneath_ a hill," Zacharias Smith pointed out. "It's not even near a hill."

"It's a place from where we come from," said Sam grumpily and ungrammatically.

"Oh!" breathed Hannah, batting her lashes at Frodo. "It must be a lovely lovely place."

"No, it ain't," snapped Sam, glaring at the unfortunate girl.

"May I go on?" Frodo asked mildly, eliciting an enthusiastic chorus of assents and one snort. "Well, then," he said, "why don't you clap hands to the rhythm and dance?"

Meanwhile in the Gryffindor common room there was much questioning by Hermione and much scowling by Aragorn, who resented being sixteen again; by Harry, who resented not being the one pelted by questions; by Scott, who resented being separated from Jean and by Ron, who resented not being the one Hermione had been drooling at.

Ginny Weasley looked soulfully at the tall, bespectacled new arrival and sighed. She always had a thing for glasses, but this new boy's ones were beyond mere designer eyewear: they were so _cool_ she felt she could look at them for hours, trying to picture the obviously beautiful eyes they were so efficient in hiding.

_Scott Summers,_ she thought dreamily, _what a perfectly splendid name._ She had envisioned herself as 'Ginny Potter' for years, but, as lovely the idea of being the Boy Who Lived's wife was, his surname grated on her nerves. Yes, the Potters were a family of heroes and that was all well and good, but the sound of that surname was… was… She hadn't really any words for what it was, she only knew that the unfortunate plosive at the beginning was designed to be pronounced with explosive contempt, a thing that that disgusting ferret Malfoy kept exploiting with malicious glee.

She couldn't see any way out of her destiny as hero's wife, nor did she really want to avoid marriage to a famously brave person, what she'd have liked to avoid was being branded, having children branded, with that surname. She had resigned herself to it, studiously ignoring Harry's very obvious lack of interest, but the new year had unexpectedly brought her hope. This newly arrived hero had a much more alluring surname to dream about, not to mention him being one hell of a stud.

_Ginny Summers… Ginevra Summers,_ she chanted like a mantra. _I'll get you, mister superglasses, see if I don't._

The Slytherin common room was frizzing with unleashed hormones. Male and female fifth, sixth and seventh years were endeavouring to enter the inner circle of Malfoy's court, but all their efforts were inexorably thwarted by those ever-popular gorillas Crabbe and Goyle.

In the inner circle, a cosy arrangement of sofas and comfy chairs around the fireplace, Malfoy's court was enjoying its leader's antics.

"Blond," said Malfoy imperiously, "stop ogling Cinnamon, I got dibs on him. Well, yes," he added in a more reasonable manner, "I got dibs on you as well, but I never meant I wanted a threesome…" he thought a second, "Not now at least," he added in an uncharacteristic burst of honesty.

Legolas drew himself to his full height, no mean feat for one almost submerged in an overly soft comfy chair. "I am not ogling," he said rather haughtily in ringing tones. "I am an elf."

Laughter erupted at this statement, accompanied by spluttered exclamations of merry disbelief.

"You will _not_ debase the elven race, mortals!" Legolas was now offended to the core; he couldn't remember when he had been so angry. "You have the manners of an orc! Elves do not ogle. Elves mate for life, their marriage a true communion of soul and body. Elves do _not ever_," he ranted, "mate with elves of the same sex. _And_ when they marry an elf of the _opposite sex_, they have carnal conjunctions only once every thousand years…"

This last statement shocked everyone silent.

"Mec, I pity you," commiserated Gambit.

"What? Not even a few snoggings?" Zabini muttered. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"I _heard_ that, mortal. My hearing is exceptionally good, and so is my sight. Elves do not 'snog'," he invested that innocent little word with a world of disgust. "Elves kiss chastely on the day of their betrothal, on the day of their marriage and then no more."

"Pull the other one," the Slytherins' Ice - Prince… Queen… Princely Queen… Queenly Prince… pick one – drawled, unamused.

"If, with your uncouth phrase, you mean to insinuate that I am lying," said Legolas, firmly entrenched on his dignity, "then no. Elves do not lie."

"Elves are an unusually dull bunch, then," said Malfoy. "Tell me, what do you do to while away the centuries between shags? For fun? R & R? Anything?"

Legolas had to think about that one for a while.

"We sing, we hunt," he finally said, "and we kill orcs."

"Whee, fun," Malfoy said flatly. "So it's not only a hair thing that got you into Slytherin. I was beginning to wonder the Hat had gone completely gaga. You sound like a Death Eater, you know?" The boy's brow furrowed and he added: "No, you sound like You-Know-Who, actually. Pity, because I've discovered I don't like you."

Gambit decided it was time to intervene, he liked a bit of mayhem every now and then, but not after a big meal made interesting by so many odd dishes. He wanted to digest it in peace.

"Look, chere, no offence, but if you could explain a bit more about elves, we'd sure appreciate it."

"Elves are the first race…" Legolas started but was immediately interrupted.

"Species," Gambit said. "You, me, the kids here, those funny lil mecs with the foot fur, and normal humans are five different species, not races. Elves, Mutants, Wizards, Hobbits and Men. Five. Different. Species. 'S a lil thing called science."

"I know nothing of your puny mortal thoughts," said the elf. "I only know what the Valar told us. Elves are the first race, the only one to be granted not to die and the only one to have the choice to go to Valinor across the ocean…"

"America!" yelped Pansy "What's so great about going to America? _We_ can go to America, if we want, which I, for one, would be sooner dead than do."

"He comes from Another Reality," patiently explained Remy, slotting the capital letters in place. "In his reality there is no America."

"Cool," Pansy said. "Can I go there?"

Malfoy smirked.

"Enough of elves, dullest bunch on Earth," Draco said suddenly. "Have you noticed how all the moody buggers go to Gryffindor? Look at the new ones, between them and Potter it's a miracle that anybody managed to keep their appetite."

Their minds went back pensively to the scene at the Starting Feast and the Gryffindor table, where Aragorn's scowl had been given a run for his life by Potter's and Scott's scowls.

"Gloomy gits, aren't they?" said brightly Draco and plopped a chocolate frog into the really sexy, though sartorially challenged, new tall-and-handsome housemate.

"Weh," Gambit agreed a little indistinctly, and swallowed. "The gloomy git with the chic glasses is our Fearless Leader. Surly as a bear, and twice as boring. The other happy face must belong to a friend of our resident elf. Who's he, Leggypoo?"

The whole inner circle snickered.

"_What_ did you call me, mortal?" the elf nearly roared. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that, as the sole representative of the elven race in this abode of madness, it behooved him to comport himself with the dignity and propriety that was expected of him.

"Leggypoo," Remy said sweetly and grinned winningly. "Moi," he said, "I'm addicted to nicknames. Live with it, mon elfie. Who's the surly mec? The _other_ surly mec," he added, in an effort to be clear.

The Slytherin common room was by then abuzz with comments interspersed with sniggering and, in the case of Millicent Bulstrode, outright cackling.

Legolas took a firm grip on his temper. _Remember those are mortal children, not foul orcs of Sauron. **Foul** mortal children, but not orcs_, he told himself sternly over and over again.

"His name is Aragorn," he said at last, a trace of shock still in his musical voice. "He is a ranger, a great hearted and brave man. If he rarely smiles, it is because he is parted from his true love. He has been waiting seventy years to wed his lady, the beauteous Arwen Undomiel."

Gambit's cry of "Waited _how_ long?" clashed with Malfoy demand to know which House was this beauteous from.

"Seventy years," Legolas answered, in order. "The House of Elrond,"

"Where's that?" asked Zabini, suddenly much more interested. "Is that a Beauxbaton house?"

The Ravenclaw common room was hosting a much more sedate exchange of information. Jean was explaining the manner of their universe jumping. So good was she at narrative that her interested housemates experienced a proper flashback…

"_Mind the Marauders!" Scott barked at Chamber who seemed to be dead to the world, fascinated gaze fixed on the tableau at the edge of the battle._

_Sinister stood, ragged cape blowing to an unseen wind, leering at the X-Men, while nimbly deflecting their assault. He seemed to be searching for something or someone. _

_Suddenly his red eyes glittered like jewels illuminated by the white arc lights of an asylum search-beam and he shouted, pointing his fingers at a slim, agile figure oddly unhampered by the long trench coat he was wearing._

"_Gambit!" Sinister said, deftly projecting his voice to raise above the din of battle, "You are my son! Come to daddy!"_

"_NOOOOOO!" Remy capslocked wildly, shocked to the core. "I DON'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!" He staggered back some steps and bumped into Xavier's futuristic sled. "HE CAN'T BE, CAN HE?"_

_Xavier looked gravely to the young mutant and then to one of his arch-enemies and seemed to ponder a bit. "Well, " he said, "The colouring of your eyes would seem to point that way, my young friend…"_

"_Is this the time to discuss genetics?" shouted Scott, much incensed. "Fight, X-Men! I want these damn Marauders down! Now!"_

_Suddenly there was no time to think, the Marauders acted like one and their assault was so overwhelming that the X-Men were forced back unto one another._

_Sinister walked through his henchmen's onslaught like a hot knife through butter until he reached the knot of fighting mutants, bent on protecting their mentor._

_He opened his ragged mantle, ready to englobe Gambit and said: "_Mine_" with the finality of a coffin lid slamming shut. No amount of capslocking could have delayed the Master Thief's fate._

_Chamber flared in protective anger and, at the same moment, Jean whomped into Phoenix flames. The two terrible forces collided and reality wavered._

_"No! Jean, be caref…!" Scott yelled as an indescribable energy source cut all human utterances into white noise. A sound so loud it went beyond hearing shattered the universe into particles and rebuilt it anew._

_But different._

_But not the same._

_Most assuredly not the same._

_"Krot!" A thoroughly pissed off voice cut through the medley of grunts and moans filling the air. "What the krot happened? Where the krot are we? And will you krotting keep your krotting paws off me?" Remy LeBeau shoved brutally against Sinister. "I'm not your krotting son, you krotting pervert!"_

_"Shut up, Remy, " Jean said kindly. "Essex, leave Gambit alone. This isn't the time or place to indulge in petting."_

_"I'm not petting," Sinister's usual ice-cold voice was wavering with shock. "He's my son and I think I have a right to…"_

_"Shut up!" Scott barked. He looked at the still tightly-knit knot of mutants, mentally ticking off names against a remembered roster. "Jean," he said, at long last, "Chamber, Gambit, Wolverine, Beast and me. Ah, yes," he added, distaste plain in his voice, "and Sinister."_

_Somewhat calmed by the roll-call, they all looked around. They were on a verdant hill, one of a series of verdant hills stretching, apparently, to infinity. There was nothing even remotely resembling a landmark or any sign of human habitation._

_"Any idea of what happened, Hank?" Jean asked._

_"Well, Jeanie," Beast replied slowly, "I'm not quite sure, but it seems that the interaction between your Phoenix fire and Jono's psionic energy may have set up an interdimensional portal keyed to your unconscious desire to evacuate our resident thief into a reality that would resolve positively the quantum uncertainty of his parentage."_

_"What the…?" Wolverine growled. "Stop spitting dictionaries at us and talk like a normal person, bub!"_

_Hank sighed. "Some things can't be explained in two-syllable words, Logan," he said._

_"Yeh, they can!" Wolverine countered, belligerently. "Einstein said so."_

_They all stared, round-eyed, at the half-mustelid._

_"What?" Logan said, annoyed. "I read loadsa books. So what? Wanna make something out of it, bubs?"_

_"No, of course," Hank said, a tad shell-shocked. "You're right. Well, in lay terms…" He paused to think and then went on, magisterially. "You know that there are infinite universes all occupying more or less the same space…" he paused again and then resumed, "for a given definition of space, of course, but that's not important now. Jean and Jono wanted Remy safe and not Sinister's son, so when their energies… collided, we were all transported into another universe."_

_"I'm not the pervert's son in any universe," Gambit stated flatly. "And even if we were in some kind of perverts' universe, I would disown the mec."_

_"Yes, well," Scott had never been more conscious of the onus and responsibility of being Fearless Leader to a bunch of mutants who seemed to have never outgrown their teens, saving his lovely wife, of course. "We'll have to explore this reality. Hank, you think of a way to get us back home. Sinister, try anything and I'll personally fry you into a crisp." _There_, he thought_, that should shut them up for a bit

_Grumbling, but willing, the X-men prepared to explore the boring countryside._

_"LOOK!" Gambit capslocked again, in surprise this time. "THERE ARE PEOPLE… SCRATCH THAT, BEINGS, COMING TOWARD US!"_

_"What's with you and the capslock, Cajun?" Wolverine asked angrily. "I've got sensitive ears."_

_"Sorry, chere, I was surprised," Gambit said._

_Scott looked all round the horizon, but could see nothing. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I can't see a thing."_

_"I'm taller than you," Remy said, smugly. "I can see farther off."_

_"Okay, 'taller than me', why did you say 'beings'?"_

_"Lots taller, mec," Gambit smirked. "You should see them by now. But there's one… two… three… four tall mecs, all headbangers by the length of their hair. One is old and wears a dress, the others look like extras in a Robin Hood movie. Then there are… five very short mecs. Odd looking very short mecs. One has a helmet with horns like a veeery very short Viking. Shorter than Wolvie here," he finished with another smirk._

_"Spare us the commentary, my son," Sinister said. "I can see them too."_

_There was an ominous _fizzle fizzle_. A fuchsia-pink light changed Sinister's paper-white skin into something approaching a very allergic sunburn._

_"Krotting stop the krotting son bullshit, chere," Gambit threatened, his smirk widening into a shark-like show of teeth._

_"Well met on this green hill, strangers."_

_The sonorous greeting made them all jump._

_"What the…?" Wolverine growled._

_"Distances can be deceptive on hilly ground," Hank said weakly. "Hello and well met. Allow me to present ourselves…"_

_"Not on your life!" Scott said, testily. "I am the Fearless Leader and I present the group. We are the X-Men, mutants who battle for a better future with humanity. Ah, yes," he added with the exact same distaste that had coloured his voice before, "and this is Sinister. He's a villain. Nothing to do with us as such. He just got transported against our will."_

_"And he's NOT my father, no matter what he says," added, darkly, Gambit._

"I see you come from a faraway land," the old man said with unnerving calm. "Welcome to Middle-Earth. I am Gandalf and these are my companions. We too battle for a better future against a great evil."

TBC


End file.
